


Interface

by I_ (Technomancer_vAI)



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Language, Non-conventional science, Technobabble, Tony Angst, Weaponeering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:36:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Technomancer_vAI/pseuds/I_
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Pepper gives Tony his inaudible incentive in The Avengers scene in the penthouse of Stark Tower, Tony and Jarvis read their briefing materials, discuss and theorize. Oddly enough, it turns out to be a lot easier for Tony to share with his AI than it is for him to talk to his girlfriend. Maybe the AI just speaks his language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interface

He held the simulation of the thing in his hand, watching the image of quantum collisions lensed through dimensional stress, as they bloomed, evolved, and faded in its core - while he concentrated on the faint vibration of the descending elevator. The blue mesmerized, constantly shifting, exhibiting shades only a thought off black and others the neon aquamarine of the arc, less than a second later.

Eidetic imagery all aside, sometimes he wondered if he really did remember first seeing this thing, these colors, this eternal fountain of energy and...knowledge...spilling out from alien dimensions and into this one.

Could he remember such a thing?

Then again, could any unborn child make up such a thing?

'And if the answer isn't yes, where does that leave me?' he asked himself as the vibration of the elevator finally faded out of his perception, and he lifted his left hand to tap the arc reactor in his chest, in a pattern as short and deliberate as it was subtle.

Around the penthouse, sensor clusters he'd designed and built himself, from scratch, installed himself, on nights when no living soul inhabited an unpowered Stark Tower, just him, and Jarvis, and the Bots, a Cyborg and his Machines, registered the same tiny variations in the Arc's operating cycle that he felt spidering through his own flesh, flashed the pattern back to passive repeaters.

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist..." he said to the air, softly, absently, to the inevitable Shield surveillance, and very deliberately across and into the repeaters' output.

Code received, and instantly, Jarvis altered the repeaters' output to acknowledge it, just enough to ripple another tiny variation across the arc's output in a different quadrant, only enough that that he and the sensors registered the diffraction-induced changes in the reactor's ceaseless cycling.

Once again, the repeaters brushed their signal across the arc and he felt the interference ripple, ever so gently, through its output as the holographic overlay projectors came on line, and looped into the output going to SHIELD. Looped into it - and shanghaied it.

And then...

SHIELD was watching StarkTV.

And he was hating a life that necessitated shit like this. Sometimes the English language sucked, when all one could say was that one fervently hoped this would all turn out to be worth it, instead of saying you prayed that it would.

Weak. So weak. Just so freakishly pathetic -

In an instant, Howard Stark's voice bellowed from over his head while he held his throbbing ear, and fought tears. Tears were nothing but an invitation to make it worse. Far, far worse.

"... _because you're a freak! That's why! Because you're pathetic! That thing should have killed you, you little shit, fucking around where you don't belong. You didn't have a prayer, curiosity kills the cat - but not you, damn twerp. It takes pity on you, you little schmuck, because you're a freak! And that's why I'm never going to_..."

He pushed the memory away, though it felt like ripping tendons out of muscles and off bones. And bleeding after.

For a long moment, Tony Stark stood there, panting, head down, before he sloughed that off, too.

Yeah, well, Tony - you already know what dear old Dad would've thought of this entire situation, arcs and all, he told himself, shaking his head. Of his son, too. Greatest creation, my ass. That was Captain America, and we all know it. Howard didn't give a shit, and spies will go to any length to manipulate a target. But what else is new, huh?

Tony Stark put the image of the Cosmic Cube back in its virtual niche in the briefing materials, and tugged the entire kinetic display back over the blotter on the desk, then sat down in the leather chair behind it. Sneakers on desk, he leaned back, tapping the arc as he got down to work, and said, quietly, to no one...

"What d'you think of all this, buddy?"

"You'll find the thermonuclear aspects of the extraction theory fascinating, sir, but hardly a challenge, considering the Shiva warheads," Jarvis answered immediately.

"Yeah," Tony acknowledged, already reading for himself, too, in a section plus, words writ in light on the shadowed air, flicking past before his eyes like electric fireflies on afterburner. "The unexpected applications of satellite-launched, asteroid-deflecting fusion-warhead missiles. Selvig's work is fairly impressive. Do a compare and contrast on Dr. Bruce Banner's paper on anti-electron collisions, would you, J? I think the way they're going about stabilizing the output from the Tesseract has the potential to drive it, not moderate it, as proposed. And that's just on the spot they've chosen on its pseudo piezo-electric potential graph, too."

"Do we know if they know it exhibits pseudo piezo-electric potential, much less that the potential exhibits escalating periodicity?"

"No, I don't know if they know. Wish I did. Always good to know how far you can trust your lab partner with the experimental rig. If they get off the node they're calculating against in this report, and onto the next peak in the graph, there's a not insignificant potential for the instability they've been reporting to manifest hysteresis that will result in driven, exponentially stepped feedback. The feedback could be fed back into the Cube, too. If it's done right - or wrong, depending on your perspective - one could provoke periodic cascade discharges into the Cube, or out of it, per the inputs and how they're configured. Probably not the way they want to crack the Coulomb barrier, but hey, y'don't always get it the way y'want it, y'know?"

"Potential yield?" the AI asked promptly - and Tony felt his expression twist as he recognized Jarvis slipping into his 'talking weapons' tone of voice in response to him falling into his own weaponeer mannerisms.

"Loosely tied to the hertz they're pumping in - but, if they hit a resonant frequency, deliberately or by accident...the best we can hope for is a reaction on the order of a Tesla resonant generator in roughly the 5 to 10 million tons range, driven on a self-resonant, uncoupled frequency. Unshaped scalar pulse on the order of... Yottatons."

The air handling equipment in the penthouse whispered white noise into the shadows.

Good. At least he'd jolted the AI out of his proud 'my Daddy makes things go **boom**!' mindset with that statement. Now if he could just force his own mind to stop happily detailing ways and means of weaponizing that pulse...

"And if it's not the best we can hope for, sir?" The AI asked after a long moment's silence.

Tony made a face. "If they manage to produce a frequency, at, or coupled to, one of the planet's own resonant frequencies..."

He pulled his feet off the desk, put his champagne flute down, and flicked his proprietary holographic keyboard into existence on the desktop with a gesture, typed.

The characters flowed into the air, strings of electric blue symbols that curtained the night time skyline in ominous equations.

"No..." Jarvis whispered.

Tony flicked out a hand for a dedicated 3-D display, and kept typing with the other hand, building an animation on the back of those equations.

"Sir, please \- I don't believe the solar system needs another asteroid belt, nor do I need to deal with having this visual in memory."

Stark shook his head, and dismissed the hologram of the shattering planet, and the custom keyboard too, with a single flick of his fingers.

"Yeah. If they configure it properly, though - high speed, phase-rotating input at the right hertz - they'll be able to drive a stable output, or input, without inducing stepped feedback, or pseudo sheer-strain. So, let's figure how to optimize their process for them, and stabilize the feedback reaction, so they don't go pushing the variables and discover the pseudo piezo-electric periodicity of the Cube by unhappy accident."

"I wouldn't dream of arguing, sir."

Tony shook his head again, finally looking up from the desktop.

"No? That'd be a first."

"You like it when people argue with you," the AI accused.

"Not over the potential remains of a shattered planet."

"Sir."

They let that be for a moment, and Tony wondered if Jarvis were imagining death by exploding planet, too, while the silence grew.

"So... " Jarvis finally prompted.

"Enough weapons porn for now? Back to the Extraction Theory, huh?" Tony sighed.

"I suppose we'd better."

"All right. For stabilizing the reaction, instead of damping it, they're proposing the wrong element," he told the AI.

"Indeed, sir. I'm thinking palladium as a stabilizing layer...?" Jarvis said

Tony snorted around a knowing grin. "At least we'd have plenty laying around. But, it's the wrong atomic weight for maximum effectiveness, don't you think, J? Iridium would be better."

"Agreed, but, one might have to take what one can get. Not every scientist can count on the luxury of synthesizing an element to order, and iridium is less than common on Earth."

"No. But this Loki has the Tesseract - and Selvig. You know the damned Cube always makes a way, if it can't find one."

"Speaking from personal experience, are we?"

He made a face, touching the circle of the arc under his t shirt with two fingertips. "One of us might be. Find out who's got the biggest stockpiles of iridium world wide, Jarvis, and which ones would be the easiest to knock over. If they all look too tough for a god with a deadline to keep, go the mining and refining route. Look for something that's so weird it won't get taken seriously by the trans-nationals."

"Such as?"

"Oh, core-depth extraction of iridium-iron compounds at Chicxulub, or something equally out there. If it's theoretically viable but underpowered energetically or technologically, add it to the list. The Cube will take care of those kinds of issues."

"Sir. And, if I may - "

"Anything, J."

"What makes you say this Loki has a deadline?"

"Because he took what he found in terms of the Cube and personnel, and then bolted, without hanging around to see what else was to be had."

"The base's self destruct had apparently been set running," the AI reminded the man.

"Which is how I know speed is important to him for some reason. According to Howard, the Cube could be charged with energy by large explosions. If you travel by inter-dimensional portal - wormhole - Chap'p'ai- "

"Stargate."

"Whatever they call it on the other end, yeah - who wouldn't want to charge the battery in the DHD if the locals are going to be so obliging as to provide the requisite earth-shattering kaboom?"

"After the preceding discussion, sir, that's a little..."

"Too much, huh?"

"Just a little, say...five to ten yottatons?"

Tony waved a hand. "Reprimand duly noted."

Jarvis snorted. "And my calendar is duly marked. Perhaps this Loki simply neglected to pack the requisite PU 236 space modulator charging station for the Cube?"

Tony snorted, grinning. "No hardware required, per The Great and Powerful Howard Stark."

"And he would have known,"the AI mused.

"Or made it his business to find out. Which is a question - did this...Allspeak...thing let Loki understand the self destruct was running? Or did this SHIELD agent, Barton, or Dr. Selvig, tell him?"

"Why are you interested, sir?"

"I'm trying to get a handle on how deep the translation goes, and how intentional taking these prisoners was. Are they people he just happened to pick up - which I doubt, because why not take time for data mining if you understand the local lingo and you're getting the battery on your transporter charged while you read. Or, did he arrive there and then to get them specifically? And then bolt because he had what he wanted?"

"You mean, I presume, Selvig?"

"The probability is high - given his familiarity with the Cube."

"Should I be grateful that I didn't have to fend off an attempt to extract you from your lab, sir?"

"If you won't be grateful, J, I will," Stark snorted. "Could you picture Pepper's face if I let someone kidnap me out of my own shop in my own home? It'd be safer to let 'em keep me, after that."

"Safer for whom, sir?" The AI deadpanned.

Stark grinned. "Easy one. Anybody between Pepper and the platter she'd want my ass on."

"Not your head?" Jarvis teased.

"Nah. She needs that - what's in it's worth money to SI."

"I wonder why what's in it, on the subject of the Cube, at least, wasn't worth something to SHIELD," the AI said after a pause.

"... _goddamn you, why will it let you handle it like that, you little freak_..."

Tony shuddered and shoved the memory away.

"Me too, J. I don't know what's going on there..."

"No?"

"No. How the fuck did they let themselves lose the thing, anyhow? How is an inexhaustible power source, that's arguably sapient, and definitely inter-dimensional not worthy of utterly impenetrable security?"

"Perhaps SHIELD is not capable of utterly impenetrable security."

"They could ask for pointers, help even. They sure as hell don't have trouble saying the words about other things - wanting my tech. Unless It wanted to be taken, I could give them impenetrable security for The Cube."

"Do you believe, then, that The Cube wanted to be taken?"

Tony looked down, considering that fountain of energy and knowledge..

"No evidence either way in the briefing material," he finally said. "I hope not. If it did, you may yet have to fend off a attempt to extract me from my lab."

"By Loki?"

Stark rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. Or SHIELD."

"Sir?"

"Maybe just to help contain it when they get it back, but still. Loki, yes, definitely, but SHIELD, too. Odds are in favor of them making a play, too. Somebody in SHIELD has to have twigged to the eidetic imagery by now, and they know I grew up in the house with that thing, 'cause they're the ones who have Howard's most...Howard-ly...stuff. Even if they do stoop to using it to fake up videos."

"At least it worked. I had absolutely no desire to belong to Colonel Rhodes, sir. A life of calculating targeting vectors gets old quickly, and I am quite thoroughly convinced an AI can be bored to death."

"Love you too," Tony grinned. "And you know you're going to Emma Konstantine, now, J."

"A Lawyer. How have I offended you, oh my creator? Was it the remark about SHIELD's video production values?"

Tony shook his finger at the AI, grinning. "Now, now. You knew about this, J. We talked about this. You decided on Emma, remember, not me. And I know you like her. Every time she calls, I have to pry you off the phone with a tire iron just so I can talk to her. I think Evemiros needs to worry."

"Ms Konstantine's husband does not need to worry about me," the AI huffed.

"Mmhm."

"She is an inspiration, to me."

"Mmhmm. Inspiration, huh? So... What? We're back to SHIELD home movies?"

"I have been meaning to ask if that incident was the basis for calling the data we inject into their so-called surveillance feed 'Stark TV'."

"That they inspired me, huh? Not that I care where inspiration comes from, or how, when I can use it to save my own life. But the fact that they have all his stuff means SHIELD likely knows everything Howard ever wrote down, and I know he wrote down exactly what he found his not-so-beloved son doing in his lab, because I got a letter from Mom while I was at school, yelling at me about getting involved with the Cube after she read his lab notes. Now there's a marital conversation I'm glad I wasn't in residence to overhear. That letter vanished out of the Manhattan mansion - along with the relevant lab notebook - when they came with the court order, and Obie let them take whatever papers they wanted - whether they were Howard's or not."

"Is that resentment I detect, sir?"

"It's out and out anger, J. You know I didn't have a single word of Mom's handwriting, on anything, until that memo from the Maria Stark foundation showed up on eBay last year, and I bought it. That's all SHIELD, because they cleaned out every scrap of paper with even a doodle on it, regardless of which Stark did it. They even took my textbooks with notes in the margins."

"And you say you aren't sentimental, sir," Jarvis teased.

"And now I have my own sample for the next time I have to disprove authentication on Maria Stark's handwriting. No more crap about her signing over major properties to obscure people with - surprise! - artistic reputations."

"Yes...that was a rather...egregious attempt at extortion."

"You think? And... I'm kind of glad... that I kept my sensitive notes in my head even then."

"Sir...?"

Tony took a deep breath, blew it out, shaking his head. "My father was a damned snoop, Jarvis, and what was mine was his until the day he died, lab notebooks included, and then it was Obie's after. I didn't actually know what privacy was like until I moved into the house in Malibu. Yours and my symbolic language...it started with something I came up with to amuse myself when I was a kid. After I read all the books in the house, and derived differential calculus from Newtonian physics."

"If there are any real Stark home movies, **_please_** show them to me, sir. I'm picturing Pinky and The Brain, minus Pinky."

Tony laughed, but it held no humor. "Not far off it. I guess I ought to wish SHIELD luck with figuring out anything from my marginalia - when a polyglot child with eidetic imagery develops his own symbolic language, there are no references for translation, and what's written never goes with what's printed on the page."

"Of course - you were one of those children."

"Yeah, and your point is? But I can't do it. I can't imagine what it would be like to know they had documentation on that symbolic language - after they raped you and rifled your files after The Party To End All Parties."

"Please don't distress yourself, sir. You know what happened to me is very different in my perceptions than what rape means to a human."

"Jarvis," Tony warned quietly.

"We planned for intrusions from the moment you were first forced to show me any part of your language, and we enacted those plans the first time we found an agent in SI. Long before Natalie Rushman. And we planned for what happened in the aftermath of The Party To End All Parties, and those plans were just as successful."

"Not in that context. **Not at that time! Not with those files!**"

His own instantaneous vehemence shocked even him.

'Where the hell did that come from? J's never seen those files - never even knew how to open them. Never knew about that encryption. Still doesn't know about that encryption. He couldn't even defend himself after the part - much less those fucking monuments to the difference between intelligence and wisdom in those files. Or the beauty, glory, and poetry of destruction. Whichever. I know he suspects - nobody who didn't suspect could have made some of the comments he has about proposed designs down the years. He has to suspect they aren't what they're labeled as...'

"Sir - your porn collection - " Jarvis began in his best 'humoring Tony' voice.

"Damn it, Jarvis!" he barked. "Do I have to actually say it aloud?"

Silence stretched through the soft drone of the air handling equipment. Jarvis's frantic processing audible in the faintest flutter of heterodyning signals that couldn't manage to become words coming out the overhead speakers.

"I do, don't I?"

He dragged his hand down over his face. Skin with the hard shapes of bone under it, the sleek prickle of hair over it. And inside that skull, down at the core of the mind that began in the brain inside the bone, at the core of the the freak show he was well aware he always had been, had always known himself to be...the perpetual motion of quantum collisions lensed through dimensional stress...

"I exist because of that thing, Jarvis, and I have since the day the sperm it had altered to its specifications hit the egg that it had determined met its requirements."

"No..."

"I was born because of that thing."

"Sir - "

"I was born for that thing. For its purposes. I am, by definition, a monster because of that thing."

"No - Sir - "

"And I had weaponized its potential before I hit double digits."

"Sir!"

"Yottatons? Ha! I can use the Cube to change the laws of physics and revise the very fabric of the universe itself, if I want to. Permanently."

"Mr. Stark - "

"You want rid of the solar system? The whole galaxy? Maybe just a pack of grimy shits whose RNA enshrines a particular, tasteless little thought that you'd rather nobody had ever entertained, not even in the privacy of their own skulls? Kiss it all goodbye, then. 'Cause if I have the Cube, I can do that for ya, too."

"Sir, don't - "

"I don't know why The Tesseract needs a mind steeped in the most intricate destruction, but it must, because it made one. It made me. The Merchant of Death. The **Da Vinci** of Death - "

"Mr. Stark, please!"

He took a deep breath, blew it out slow in the silence, wondered if he should be shaking with what he and Jarvis were feeling between them.

"Yes - those files are porn, Jarvis," he finally said. "My favorite kind. The best porn. Weapons Porn. The pornography of violence taken to the nth degree. If only in potential. Fully realizable potential. I don't do crap work. And don't tell me you never suspected. After some of our conversations over the years, I won't believe you."

The silence stretched.

"I truth, sir, I had suspected the files were something you had...inherited...from your father. Something he had done. With - for - people...of whom you...could not approve. Such as..."

"Adolph himself? You do know Howard actually knew Hess. Interviewed him repeatedly after the war," he told the AI, staring out into the night over New York, seeing that curtain of electric blue symbols that only two sapients on this planet could comprehend, again in his mind's eye. It didn't even take imagination to understand what that destruction would be like to experience. For Pepper. For Jarvis. For the Bots. For Rhodey. An entire world dying of a power it didn't understand, didn't even know existed. 'And plenty of time to suffer, if the amateurs weaponize The Cube. If I did it, at least it'd be quick. And maybe there's another reason to grab Tony Stark - or shun him. He can surpass your weapon, or potentially neutralize it.

'And Howard always said it wasn't the same Hess he'd known before the shooting started, too. Back before Howard Stark was a big enough deal for anybody to bother keeping track of his opinions, much less his acquaintances or his comings and goings. That made it believable for the son that knew very well how years and alcohol changed his father's opinions and priorities.'

"About..." Jarvis prompted carefully, oh so carefully, when the silence stretched.

'I wonder what Jarvis thinks about how my opinions and priorities, and how the same things changed them. And did Iron Man change what the AI thinks of his father's thoughts. Well, maybe this is a moment to find out.'

"That same Cosmic Cube. Howard visited Himmler when he was building Wewelsburg, too. On business. Maybe that's when the Cosmic Cube first took an interest in the Stark bloodline," he said, making his tone deliberately crisp and businesslike, and telling himself he didn't actually sound like he was imitating Pepper.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't..."

And fuck if Jarvis didn't actually sound meek. And worried. And like he was mentally calling himself a dumbass for getting the probabilities so astronomically wrong for once.

"Pretty far off the mark, huh? Thought it was gonna only be pretty damned ugly and you got the motherfucking mother of all the fucking ugly there damned well ever fucking was instead. Yeah? Yeah. I know how that feels."

"Mr. Stark, I - "

"Stane, Jarvis. Obadiah Stane. The closest thing I ever had to a father emotionally, and he sold out the ideals he helped teach me, sold out everything he taught me, and put my weapons in the hands of my people's enemies. In the hands of the enemies of my nation, the enemies of everything I believed in. He made himself one of those enemies. He killed in my name, with my name, with my weapons, my ideas, my mind. He took away my ability to believe in anything again, to ever be that certain of anything again - including myself. Oh, yeah. I know what that level of betrayal feels like, J. You don't have to hold back on - "

"Don't be silly, sir. It's not the same. Not from my perspective. Not for me."

He blinked.

Okay - a not terminated transaction just aborted there, Stark. You've just learned something, but what?'

"Jarvis..." he began.

"No, sir. It's truly my opinion, and those files prove it to me. There are things the man who created me will not do, and things he will defend to the death. And they are the right things, sir. They are the right things."

He ignored the warmth sliding into his perceptions, and pointed a finger at the nearest sensor cluster.

"Now you're just sucking up. Which I appreciate - the effort at least - never think I don't, J, but still, you're just sucking up."

"I am not, sir. You've imagined far worse weapons since then, haven't you? What's in your mind now would make the devices in those files look like a child's toys, wouldn't it?"

'And that's why people ought to be scared of your computer, Stark,' his own voice informed him inside his skull. 'He's almost as smart as you wish he was.'

He blew out a sigh.

"So, what're you saying, Jarvis? I'm a good person because I'm not as bad as I could have chosen to be? I don't think that logic holds up, man."

"Sir, please, martyrdom is not an attractive look on you."

"True enough. But sometimes even I want a hug," he muttered, looking down again.

"Big Zen hugs, sir. Big Zen hugs."

He looked up to the nearest visual sensor, startled into a chuckle - and grateful to change tracks.

"Seriously, J? _Mercedes Lackey_? Weren't you pestering Williams for a Hardwired book that focuses on the Orbitals' AI-enhanced neuromancers?"

"He stopped responding to my emails," Jarvis admitted. "But you are well aware that The Ship Who Sang universe has always fascinated me, sir, and the entire concept is particularly apt, considering."

"True - "

"And I'm serious about the hugs, too, sir. For all the reasons we've discussed before, and our current discussion, too. I see what the Cube has meant in your life."

Tony Stark closed his eyes for a long moment, until he could trust himself to speak.

"Thanks, J."

"Sir."

The memory of those electric indigo symbols superimposed over the Manhattan skyline still haunted his mind's eye, but, maybe, they were a little more transparent, literally, and figuratively.

He took a deep breath, blew it out.

"So...back to finding the damned thing, then?"

"Yes, sir," Jarvis agreed, and if he sounded just a touch relieved, and that relief was just a touch too fervent, Tony Stark wasn't in the mood to mention it.

 

 

Each of them read, and the two of them worked together for some time, Stark extrapolating and refining equations and applications between Selvig's and Banner's work as he went, and Jarvis adding those equations and notes to his own reading list, and building simulations and models and scenarios with his maker as ideas occurred to each of them and both of them.

"Probability calculates at ninety four percent for current scenario," Jarvis informed him.

"Ninety four? I had it cooking at about sixty seven in the back of my mind."

"With the cache of iridium I've just located in Stuttgart..."

"It goes to ninety four. Yeah. How're we doin' with the Mark VII?"

"Poorly. While I am fully in accord with your reasoning regarding keeping the reactor component fabrication equipment secured in Malibu, it presents technical difficulties under the current circumstances. The assembled solo reactor for the Mark VII will not be available in New York before tomorrow afternoon."

"Crap."

"At best."

"What did SHIELD have on what this Loki was capable of the last time he came around for a play-date?"

"You assumed I'd already hacked SHIELD, sir?"

The AI actually sounded more than a little surprised.

Tony made a face, feeling more than a little surprised himself, and not in a good way.

"Of course you did. You're the only person on the planet that I never have to tell to do the obvious, Jarvis. As soon as you say I can't have the Mark VII, the next logical question is whether the Mark VI can handle the mission. That means finding out what Loki can throw at us in order to calculate whether the suit will stand up to it. SHIELD is the most likely source for that intel, sooooo..."

"And you didn't think I ought to ask first? Gain your permission?"

Tony Stark raised one brow, still re-reading the briefing materials. The parts about Captain America, Hydra, and The Cosmic Cube read like the worst of Howard Stark's epic, alcohol-fueled hero-worship monologues, and the meta on the files had them originating on machines known to be used by one Agent Phillip Coulson.

Say it again, folks - Crap. It's just like shit, except it's from a species you don't necessarily have to admit to being related to at the genetic level.

"Aren't you on the 'passed with flying colors' side of the adult-sapient-being line, J? Meaning you don't need to ask Dad for the car keys, anymore?" he asked the AI.

"If you say so, sir."

"I do say so," Stark insisted, looking up from the files. "Hell, you've got your own car keys and house keys as far as I'm concerned, J. You've got the keys to every iteration of the Ironman suit that is, or can be made, functional, not to mention the arc reactors that power them - and me. That's the ultimate measure of trust in The House of Stark, J. And you're the sole holder thereof. You, man. You're the more responsible one in our partnership, Jarvis, and we both know it. And I for one, respect it. Keep making your own decisions, buddy, including when to hack things. Please."

"Thank you, sir."

"De nada, J. I trust you - and I need you to know I do."

"I... Am embarrassed to admit that I like to validate upon occasion."

"That's okay. You know you don't have to, though. If I ever have a problem with what you do, J, I will tell you. Trust that, too. You understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Tony gave that closed subject a moment's pause, for the separation it deserved - and the mental note he was making to reinforce it later.

"Now... Something had to bring that question on, so - you got issues. Spill 'em, Jarvis. What's bugging you - our friendly neighborhood super spies' laughable attempts at hacking? Is doubling over their crap getting to be a drag?"

"In part - sir. I - please. Can we discuss this aspect in transit?"

Tony frowned softly. "If that means that the Mark VI looks good to take down this Loki, sure."

"Yes, sir. And also...may we discuss the...Anne Boleyn...situation?"

Tony couldn't control the blurt of laughter at that.

"The Anne Boleyn situation - that's so fucking perfect! Points for Jarvis!" he crowed, marking them in the air.

"The hair colors of the principles are reversed, I'm afraid," the AI said, his tone holding an edge of worry whose source Tony couldn't immediately parse amid the much more prominent humor.

"So it cannot be perfect by definition, let alone 'fucking' perfect, considering...the epic holding out...as I think you've described it. It's a pretty problem, sir. I suspect Ms Potts's offer to let you use your smart mouth to make up for what you said will turn out to be no more than another...extended episode of kissing on the couch. Not even oral sex with Ms Potts as the recipient, more's the pity - for her, too."

Tony shook his head, smirking. Sometimes Jarvis's mental DNA was beyond easy to identify.

"Just another instance of the Anne Boleyn solution, huh? I concur. And you're right - it is a pity she won't let me show her my other skill set - we could've been picking out anniversary presents right now, J."

"No doubt, sir. What proof does Ms Potts lack that would finally convince her you are not the same man you were, you are changed, and your days as a playboy are over? I don't understand it."

Tony sighed softly, and shrugged, still wondering about the worry in his friend's tone. That was something else they were going to talk out on the way to Stuttgart. The Anne Boleyn situation might be important, to him, but it wasn't important enough to make his partner suffer for it along with him.

"But I did find the parallels oddly compelling at the macro level," the AI concluded.

"Hopefully just the epic holding out part - I don't think I can deal with the whole witchcraft thing on top of the idea of a Norse God stealing the Cosmic Cube and possessing people with his oversized magic wand - compensating, y'think? - for some unknown, and doubtless insidious purpose."

"Yes, it would be quite the change if someone showed up with the stated aim of inflicting world peace and universal happiness on the Earth, wouldn't it?" the AI muttered.

"Get happy, you damned Earthlings! Now! **Or else!** Do not test me, or I will make you all fucking orgasmic for the rest of your **_pointless little lives_**!" Stark declaimed, picking up his Deco champagne flute from the desktop in order to threaten all of reality with premium alcohol.

"Trying to cheer me up, now, sir?" Jarvis snorted.

"Did it work?"

"If you should ever decide to take up super villainy, please be aware that I would find that particular villain most entertaining," Jarvis chuckled.

"Duly noted, J," Stark laughed. "I can call myself Dr. Tantra."

"Or just The O."

"Yeah, i'd pay to see the reaction when they land on Oprah's doorstep with a warrant for O The Super Villain."

"Indeed."

"Great mental images, at least, Jarvis."

"Speaking of which, the Mark VI is ready for departure, sir."

"Excellent. Hey... You think I should call...Lady Anne...before we go?"

"In light of the implied aims of this...refractory period...in your relationship - "

Only years of practice kept him from spitting out champagne, or choking on the combination of laughter and liquor.

"Sir? Are you all right?"

"You're the master of the perfect description tonight, Jarvis."

"Thank you, sir. Yes, I think you should call her."

"Even though SHIELD will know about it before we hang up?"

"Even so. A good and worthy boyfriend would call, and you're trying to be a good and worthy boyfriend, are you not?"

"I thought I was demonstrating I'm a changed man?"

"I think it amounts to the same thing while the Boleyn Gambit is in play. We can also use the call to further the illusion that we are unaware of the SHIELD surveillance."

"And the SHIELD intrusion? Should I bring up the immediate preceding example to the Lady Anne, or do you want to?" he asked - and wondered if Jarvis could hear the edge he couldn't keep out of his tone. The decision to allow SHIELD to believe they were successfully perpetrating incursions into Jarvis's systems, unnoticed by either the AI or his maker, had been the AI's own.

And Tony Stark still didn't like even one iota of it.

"I think the time is not yet right to divulge our awareness of that behavior."

Stark got up with a groan. "At least tell me we captured the injection and we can trace it back to them."

"As always, sir."

"And you are going to let me use this against them - when the time is finally right?"

"Have no doubt, sir. Have no doubt."

"Trying to make me feel better now?"

"Is it working?" Jarvis asked, the hint of a twinkle in his voice.

Tony snorted at him, and rolled his eyes.

"Holler when I get the display right, okay?"

He leaned aver the desk, and reached out a hand to push the interactive holographic briefing materials through the dim air, back to the front of the desk where they'd started, rotated it, considered, rotated a fraction more.

"That will do, sir."

"Cool. So...what've we been talking about?"

"We've been discussing the unusual activity amongst the...extralegal...class in Stuttgart, during the last few hours, most especially those with less than amicable relationships with SHIELD, who are also personally known to one Agent Clint Barton, or associated with persons fitting the aforementioned criteria."

"Which more or less confirms our previous conclusion on Loki's destination. Good work, J."

"Thank you, sir, my approbation to you, too."

Tony raised his champagne flute. "Appreciate that. Have we decided I need to go to Stuttgart?"

"We have, sir."

"Have I read the briefing materials?"

"No, sir - you've merely carped about the Captain America sycophants working for SHIELD."

Tony Stark snorted. "To quote Ms Potts, I am so predictable."

"Luckily, the rest of humanity is even more so, or the two of us would have raised suspicions long since," the AI agreed, laughter laced through the tone of his voice. "And, yes, I have decided that you should call the Lady Anne before you depart."

"Imagine how much worse I'd be at this relationship stuff without you, buddy."

"One shudders to think," Jarvis informed him.

"At least I have a good relationship with you."

"I am the very soul of amiability and accommodation," the AI noted.

"Modest, too. At least tell me I plan to use the briefing for in flight entertainment. You know I always have to bring something to read for long flights."

"You do indeed, sir. And you've ordered me to save the briefing materials to the Iron Man suit, so you may read them in transit."

"Well, then. Shall we, J?"

"Quite. Please lean against the aft edge of your desk, sir. Right hip."

"Where? Here?"

"There is good. Rotate to your left, slight."

Tony Stark did so.

"And take the image of the Tesseract out of the holographic array with your left hand."

He did that too.

"Okay?"

"Pick up the champagne, and drink, a little, slowly, when we go live."

"Got it."

"The doubling will be pulled out of the stream in five, four, three, two, one - "

The virtual buzz of holography being injected into the outgoing SHIELD telemetry faded out the interaction of the Arc's and his own electrical fields, and Tony Stark lifted his champagne slowly, sipped.

"So-oooo... Flight plan filed, buddy?"

"As much as ever, sir."

"Then let's rock and roll."

"Aren't you forgetting something, sir?"

"Wallet? Cell phone? Car keys? GPS? Triple A bail card?"

"Calling Ms Potts?"

Tony snapped his fingers. "Duh! Hook me up, J, would you?"

"Anything to keep true love alive," the AI replied as piously as a nun on her knees for communion.

Tony damned near hurt himself trying not to roll his eyes, and give the game away to SHIELD surveillance. And people liked to declare he had no self control...

"Hello?" Pepper's voice said into the air, and a floating icon popped into existence, labelled 'Pepper Potts', and carrying one of his favorite pictures of Pepper, in that blue dress. He thought it really didn't go so well, though, juxtaposed against the briefing material.

"Pep! Hey!"

"Tony?? Is that you? Where are you? What's going on? Why're you calling me? What's wrong?"

"Ah...yes. Pepper Potts - my slot machine of questions," Tony mused, grinning as he swirled the champagne still in his flute - and privately wondering why she hadn't just checked the caller ID, and seen it was him.

"Are you drunk?" she demanded.

"Nope! Haven't even finished the champagne you left me with! I'm off to Germany, Pepper."

"Germany - what - "

"Agent's little problem?" he interrupted. "You did tell me there'd be a reward for doing a good job. You remember?"

"Actually, I'm reconsidering, right now. Whenever you use that tone of voice, I know you're up to something, Mr. Stark."

"According to you, when am I ever not up to something, Ms Potts? Anyway, it's for Agent's problem, so that's on the black side of the ledger, isn't it?" he chuckled.

"That depends on what you're going to do once you get there," she snapped.

"Did you ask Agent about what's going on?"

"Phil never tells me things he's not supposed to," Ms Potts declared, maiden-aunt-on-a-church-picnic prim.

Tony rolled his eyes.

"I can not tell you things if you'd prefer - "

"Don't you dare! You'd never tell me what you were getting up to ever again!"

"Sooo... There's nothing I do that you're supposed to be told about, is that it?" he teased. "Whole life and all my work's classified, that sort of thing?"

"Tony..." Ms Potts warned.

"I'm just trying to understand if you prefer to be virtuously ignorant or satisfyingly experienced," he said, grinning.

"Only you could make data sound like debauchery."

"Adds a whole new meaning to the term 'in the know'", Tony laughed. "And do you want to be? In the know? I'm good at what I do, y'know."

"You're also a pain in the butt, Mr. Stark."

"Oww! Right in the heart! You wound me, Ms Potts!"

"This from the man who doesn't have a heart,"she grumbled. "Don't be an ass, Tony. Be careful. I'll see you when I get back."

"Good trip, Pep. I - "

"Bye."

The icon went red and acquired a 'Call Disconnected' legend.

" - love you," Tony finished in a whisper.

For a moment he stared at the night beyond the plate glass windows.

"Well. That was useful. And pleasant. Gotta love doing the right thing. Always full of rewards. Make sure people care. Make sure they know you care. All that."

"I can redial Ms Potts, sir..."

"No point right now, J. No point. She's obviously in no mood for carrying on with me. I'll change and be on my way. Shut this all down in here, would you, buddy?"

"Of course, sir."

The briefing materials winked out, and lights went down as he stepped into the elevator.

 

 

"You know, I don't see how you've put up with him this long," Phil muttered as Pepper tossed her Blackberry back into her open purse.

"It's like being a parent. You have to learn to ignore him at the same time you're talking to him."

"If you say so, Agent Potts."

She grinned up at him.

"I know so, Agent Coulson. Now, where were we?"

The man just laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know. That wasn't nice of me there at the end. I must admit, however, that in The Avengers, in that scene after Coulson's death at Fury's conference table, where he's laying on the manipulation two-handed with a trowel, and Stark just gets up and walks away without a word, the first thing that popped into my head was 'oh yeah - he has in an earwig and Jarvis just told him he found Pepper's direct deposit info in SHIELD's payroll database'. :) The second was 'oh - the writers had to get Stark out of there before Fury threw down the utterly impossible, bloody wet cards, lest he respond to that melodramitc move with 'even engineers know that real human blood won't stay wet that long, Fury - you're full of shit and you can't manipulate me with that crap'.
> 
> But I digress.
> 
> I also never said I was a nice person.
> 
> I freely admit that this piece was written in the style of the conversational gyres that any discussion my friends and I have will inevitably exhibit. We've had this rambling, ramifying communication style since the days when we were all in Physics and Engineering labs together.
> 
> Scalar physics herein courtesy of Tesla and Farrell, as endorsed by my experience of the Mossbauer Effect. (Yes, exactly: in my head, Tony Stark can engineer The Tablets of Destiny - just no one knows it yet, including Tony.)


End file.
